Desire: Ten sizzling, romantic tales for Valentine’s Day!

by Opal Carew

  “Yes, you are!” I exclaimed, twisting to try and get away from him. “You…you’re touching me. Stop it—stop it right now!”

  “I tell you, I’m not doing a damn thing,” he growled and held up his hands to prove it.

  I stared at him in disbelief. Sure enough, I could see both his hands and neither one was anywhere near my body.

  So then who or what was playing with my nipples?

  The thought made me wiggle some more just as whatever it was tugged on both of my tender buds, sending sparks of scary pleasure through my whole body.

  “What the hell?” I gasped, looking down to try and see what was going on. “If you’re not touching me then who is?”

  “I have no fucking idea. I…wait a minute.” Frowning, Sarden leaned over me and looked at something in a fold of the silver beanbag. “I see what it is,” he said, straightening up and looking back down at me. “When you aimed for my head with that pipe, you hit the bed’s pleasure settings.”

  “What?” I vaguely remembered him saying something about that—about the bed’s pleasure function when he was saying goodnight to me. But the fact that he’d then acted like a huge jerk had driven it clean out of my head. Now I was being reminded of his words—in the most vivid and visceral way possible.

  “You heard me. Your assassination attempt turned on the bed’s erotic functions,” he repeated and was there a slight smile tugging the corner of his sensual mouth? Yes, there absolutely was, the bastard.

  “Well turn it off!” I demanded as the silver material of the bed cradled my breasts and teased lightly at the points of my nipples.

  “No.” Sarden was openly grinning now, a self satisfied smirk pasted to his handsome, Devil-looking face that made me want to slap him. Only I couldn’t get my hands free to do it. “In fact,” he continued, “I think this is an excellent punishment for your attempt on my life. I think I’ll turn the pleasure settings up a bit.”

  “I told you,” I protested as the perverted beanbag tugged at the hem of my shirt, raising it to bare my sex and breasts for him. “I wasn’t going to kill you! I was just going to chain you up and have Al turn the ship around to take me back to Earth.”

  “And what makes you think A.L. would obey any order from you?” he growled softly. Putting a fingertip at the hollow of my throat, he began to trace a line of fire down my body, between my breasts and over my trembling stomach and belly.

  “Well, because…because he likes me,” I said breathlessly. The silver bed had stepped up its “erotic functions,” cupping my breasts and circling my nipples relentlessly. Between that and the feel of Sarden’s warm finger tracing down my body, I thought I might scream.

  “Just because he ‘likes’ you doesn’t mean you can get what you want from him,” Sarden murmured in my ear. “We’re a lot alike in that way.” His breath was hot against the side of my neck and I thought I had never felt so naked and exposed. Suddenly it got worse—something was sliding between my thighs—was it the damned beanbag again or was it Sarden?

  “Stop it!” I demanded breathlessly, my chest heaving. “Don’t…don’t touch me there. You said…you told me you’re not a…a rapist.”

  “I’m not.” He gave me a dangerous smile. “You have my word that I won’t touch you sexually at all tonight, Zoe. But you’re still going to take your punishment and come for me.”

  “I…there’s no way!” I protested.

  “There’s every way,” he murmured. “You’re going to lie here and be pleasured while I watch. I want to see your face while your sweet pussy is teased.”

  “No,” I protested again but already I could feel the silver bed parting my thighs, baring me to him completely.

  Oh God, could he see how wet I was? Because I have to admit it, I was. I didn’t get off on BDSM and 50 Shades kind of stuff—at least I didn’t think I did. So then why was being restrained and touched while Sarden leaned over me and watched me wiggle and moan making me feel hot and cold and crazy all over?

  “Oh yes,” he murmured, his long finger still stroking up and down my body, from the hollow of my throat all the way down to the top of my mound. “Yes, my little Pure One, you’re going to come very, very hard. And you’re going to do it while I watch.”

  “Please…” I whispered but by now the silver bed was touching me between my thighs. The soft, silky material seemed to have formed a kind of finger and I felt it tracing around my outer lips, teasing the neatly trimmed curls on my mound, getting closer and closer to my center.

  “Tell me something, Zoe, does it feel good?” Sarden murmured, looking down at me. “Does it feel good to be held down and pleasured? To be touched until you come?”

  “Of…of course not,” I whispered but the words came out with no force at all.

  “I don’t believe you,” he murmured. “And now I’m going to kiss you.”

  “You…you try to kiss me and I’ll bite you. I swear to God I…I will.” My last words came out as a kind of moan because the silver finger between my legs had finally gotten to the point. It was stroking me gently, caressing around and around my aching little button until I thought I might scream.

  “I’ll take my chances.” With that, Sarden lowered his head and took my mouth in a kiss like nothing I’d ever felt before.

  It wasn’t just that it he was an alien, or that he was seven feet tall, incredibly muscular and much, much stronger than me—it was the gentle dominance he used when he took me.

  He didn’t force himself on me or pry my mouth open. No, he started slowly, kissing my lips and nipping them gently, sucking my lower lip into his mouth to bathe it tenderly with his tongue.

  His breath was warm and smelled like some sweet alien spice I couldn’t name but it reminded me a lot of cinnamon and chili peppers. In fact, his kisses stung just a little bit but they felt good too—so good I almost forgot my promise to bite him. But then part of me spoke up.

  Hey, you can’t just lay here and let this happen to you! shouted a little voice in my head. You can’t just give in this easily! Fight him! Bite him!

  The voice was right and I knew it—I couldn’t just give up without a fight!

  With a little cry, I lifted my head and obeyed my inner badass.

  I sank my teeth into his full lower lip and started to bite. But just then the silver finger between my legs started circling my clit in long, slow, gentle strokes and my bite turned into an open-mouthed moan.

  Sarden took immediate advantage. I felt one big hand tangle in my hair to hold me in place as the other continued to stroke my trembling abdomen and belly. At the same time, his tongue entered my mouth, sliding between my lips to taste me more fully.

  His kisses were scorching…stinging, reminding me of the hot cinnamon candy I used to love as a little girl that burned my mouth and yet tasted so sweet I couldn’t stop sucking it. Hot Lixx it was called.

  Somehow I found I was kissing him back although I told myself I really, really didn’t want to. Between my wide-spread thighs the silver finger was stroking faster, pushing me closer to the line I didn’t want to cross.

  “Please!” I gasped at last when he finally broke the kiss. “Please, make it stop or I’m going to…going to…”

  “Going to come?” he murmured, his voice rough with lust. “Of course you’re going to come. Didn’t I tell you it’s your punishment?”

  “But I don’t…don’t want to!” I gasped. I didn’t either—or part of me didn’t. I didn’t like this bastard—he was going to trade me away to some alien slave merchant and I would never see Earth again! There was no way I wanted to give him the satisfaction of making me come.

  But another part of me was starved for sex and was having a damn hard time resisting.

  Look, don’t judge me. Have I mentioned it was almost a year since my last uh, encounter? And that was with my ex, Scott, the world’s fastest lover. Seriously, he’d make a jackrabbit jealous when it came to screwing and as for foreplay, well, I don’t think the word was even in
his vocabulary. Scott’s idea of sex was to squeeze my boobs a few times, tell me I was “looking hot tonight,” then jump my bones before I was even really ready. A few pumps, a squirt, and a tickle and we could be done before the commercial break was over so he didn’t miss a second of the game.

  Needless to say, it wasn’t very satisfying. It was also one of the reasons I had broken up with him—although not the only reason. He’d also been a complete slob around the house and ridiculously cheap when it came to money.

  But enough about my ex. What I’m trying to tell you is that he never held me down and kissed me like my mouth was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Never spread my legs and teased me so slowly that I thought I would die of pleasure and embarrassment. And he certainly never talked dirty to me, while he looked into my eyes and took sadistic enjoyment from pushing me closer and closer to the point of no return.

  “Let me go,” I begged Sarden in a moan.

  “I’m not the one who’s holding you, Zoe,” he reminded me in his deep, growling voice. “You did that to yourself when you hit the bed’s pleasure function. While you were aiming at my head. Are you sorry for that?”

  “No,” I whispered recklessly, unable to lie, even now. “I’d do it again if it would get…get me back to Earth.”

  His face darkened for a moment and then he kissed me again, harder this time.

  I felt the sting of his hot mouth on mine and I couldn’t help opening to him, even though I knew I should bite instead. One big hand tightened in my hair as the other slid up and down my body, using a much firmer stroke than his earlier light, erotic caress. I had the feeling that he really, really wanted to touch me but he was true to his word. Though the silver bed continued to twist and tease my nipples and stroke my swollen clit, his big, warm hands carefully avoided my sexual hot spots.

  “Please,” I whispered again when he let me come up for air. “Please, I…I can’t…can’t come like this.”

  “Yes, you can,” he murmured. “And you’re going to.”

  “No…” I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the sight of him leaning over me, his golden gaze glowing in the dark. “No.”

  “Yes,” he whispered in my ear. “Now, Zoe—come for me now.”

  As he spoke, I felt the silver finger between my thighs stroke firmly against the side of my aching clit—moving just the way I moved when I touched myself.

  How? I thought deliriously as I tipped over the edge at last. How does it know how to do that?

  And then all rational thought slipped away and I was coming, coming and crying out in the night because I couldn’t help it…because part of me didn’t want to help it and never wanted it to end.

  Sarden didn’t say anything else, he just leaned over and took my mouth again, eagerly swallowing my cries and moans as I shook and gasped…as my body took over and I came and came until I couldn’t think any more…

  I don’t know how long it lasted—it seemed like forever. But at last I felt the pleasure ebbing and my body went limp as I panted, trying to catch my breath.

  “So beautiful.”

  I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, those golden eyes glowing like two candle flames in the dark. “So fucking beautiful when you come, Zoe.” His deep voice was hoarse and the expression on his face was beyond intense.

  “Let me go,” I whispered brokenly, unable to help begging. “Take me back to Earth—please.”

  “I can’t,” he murmured and for a moment I thought I saw genuine regret in his eyes. “I told you, I have no choice.”

  “I don’t understand.” I blinked back tears, trying not to cry. I hate it when I get emotional after sex. It usually only happens when it’s a very intense experience—needless to say I hadn’t shed a single tear with Scott, even though we’d been together for over two years.

  I hadn’t been with Sarden for a whole twenty-four hours yet and I was already getting weepy—and we hadn’t even really had sex, I reminded myself.

  Right—tell that to my stupid eyes which insisted on producing tears. I sniffed hard, refusing to let them fall.

  “I don’t understand,” I said again.

  “You don’t have to understand.” Sarden’s deep voice was surprisingly gentle.

  Up until now, he’d been leaning over me, propped on one elbow. Now he shifted so that he was lying beside me in the silver bed which had thankfully stopped its “erotic functions” after I came. Our heads were even but he was so much taller than me, the tips of my toes only came about to his knees. It made me feel like a little girl beside him.

  “Sarden…”

  “Sleep now,” he murmured in my ear.

  “What? Like this?” I protested. “I can’t…can’t sleep like this,” I said and yawned despite myself. I still had my arms fastened firmly over my head and the black shirt was rucked up, leaving me exposed.

  “You can and you will.” Sarden’s deep voice was stern. “If I can’t trust you to be alone in your room, you’ll have to stay in mine. It won’t hurt you to stay restrained—the bed will support you in every way.”

  “But I’m cold,” I said. “At least pull down my shirt.”

  “It’s my shirt. And I won’t pull it down—I like looking at you. I will warm you up, though.” He turned over on his side and put a big, warm hand right in the middle of my belly. It seemed to radiate heat and I felt tingles and tendrils of warmth running through my entire body. His hand was so big that the tops of his fingers were right under my breasts and his palm was down past my belly button.

  “You bastard,” I said but not as angrily as I wanted to. I really was completely exhausted by this time. I could feel the weariness I’d fought off earlier in order to enact Plan B dragging at me—a slow, relentless tug like the tide pulling me out to sea.

  “Yes, I’m a bastard,” he agreed amiably enough, his long fingers tracing a lazy pattern across my stomach. “I’ve been meaning to ask—what are these little patches of pigmentation all over your skin? I’ve never seen anything like them.”

  “They’re called freckles,” I told him. “We don’t like them much on Earth. At least, the people who have them don’t like them.” I yawned again. Even though I was mostly naked in bed with a huge alien, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

  “They’re beautiful,” he murmured. “Unique—just like you.”

  “I…I’m sure Tazaxx will…will think so too,” I said, trying to be sarcastic through my yawns. Even sleepy, I can be snarky—it’s one of my special talents.

  “I’m sure he will.”

  Was it my imagination, or did the big alien sound sad? I wanted to ask but my eyelids were so heavy—it felt like someone had dipped them in lead.

  The last thing I felt was his large, gentle hand stroking my skin and his warm breath in my hair. Then the sleep tide came in completely and dragged me out into a deep sea filled with unfamiliar stars—each of them further away from Earth than the last.

  Part II

  In Over my Head (literally)

  Chapter 9

  Zoe

  They have a phrase they used to use in old romance books—bodice rippers I think they’re called. My mom had a ton of them lying around the house and I used to sneak and read them whenever I got a chance. Anyway, in all those old books whenever the heroine gets caught by the hero and they end up in some kind of sexual situation which she says she doesn’t want but she actually totally does, the books always say, “Her body betrayed her.”

  I hadn’t really understood what that phrase meant until now. Waking up beside Sarden and remembering the events of the night before, I finally, totally got it. Oh boy, did I get it.

  Stupid body—how could it have let me down like that? How could I get so hot and bothered for a man I didn’t even like? How could I let him make me come—well, technically it hadn’t been him, it had been the bed that made me come—but still!

  The light in the room had brightened and had the same quality as early-morning sunlight coming throu
gh a window. That was what had woken me up—but what kept me awake was the way I was pressed against Sarden. I still had my hands fixed over my head but sometime in the night he had pulled the shirt down so at least I wasn’t exposed anymore. We were both turned on our sides and he was spooning me, his long, muscular body wrapped around mine protectively, radiating warmth.

  It felt really good.

  Which of course, made me mad. I didn’t want to feel good with him. I wanted to hate him, especially now that Plans A and B had both failed and I didn’t have a Plan C.

  Well, maybe it’s time to think of one, I told myself. But I had nothing. I sighed and wiggled in the plush bed restlessly. Sarden stirred and tightened his grip on me, like I was his favorite teddy bear or something. Give me a break.

  I was about to wake him up when Al came zipping into the room.

  “Master Sarden?” he asked in his proper butler voice. “Oh, and…Lady Zoe.” If a robot or A.L. or whatever can be surprised, he certainly was. “Why are you not in your own room?” he asked me. “Was it not to your liking?”

  “No, she thought bashing in my head would be more to her liking.” Sarden’s deep voice rumbled through me, vibrating every inch of my body. He still hadn’t let go of me, despite his sarcastic words.

  “What? I fear I do not understand.” Al sounded perplexed and his lantern-eye blinked uncertainly.

  “It’s nothing, A.L.—I mean, Al.” Sarden yawned. “Did you come to tell me something? Have we reached Gallana?”

  “We are in orbit around the main port now, about to land in their docking area,” Al reported. “But I have even better news—I have found a collector who is most interested in the medical equipment left behind by Herr Misener.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The previous owner of this ship,” Sarden replied absently. “That’s excellent news, Al. Did you set up a meet?”

  “The buyer will meet you in the unattached males district at a café called The Suck Hole in one solar hour.”